The Moot
by Emerald S. Sparrow
Summary: Dragonborn Reyna Stormblade is Ulfric Stormcloak's personal bodyguard as the jarls of Skyrim meet for the Moot in Solitude. Despite his maddening arrogance, their chemistry is undeniable, and Reyna's reputation as a hero of Skyrim will make all the difference in whether or not Ulfric is named High King. Part 1 in A Torrid Affair series. (Image by Raving-Lunatic on deviantart)
1. The Decision

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls or Bethesda or anything related. **

_Note: Y'all, I just get little ideas in my head sometimes. This isn't an elaborate, incredible story. It's just a torrid affair between my Dragonborn and Ulfric Stormcloak lol. This is going to be short; I'll post one more chapter, and then two companion stories which will either be oneshots or have two chapters like this. _

* * *

They all stood silent, their countenances grim. A letter had arrived from the headstrong jarls, collectively agreeing to a attend a moot only if it were to be held in Solitude, where High King Torygg once resided.

"I don't like this," Reyna said warily to Ulfric, her brow furrowed with dismay. "The moot should be here. If you are to become High King, the new seat would be at Windhelm."

"I'm in agreement with the Stormblade on this," Galmar voiced gruffly. "This is a risk I'm not sure it's wise to take."

Ulfric glanced back and forth between them, his jaw clenching and unclenching threateningly. "I must show them that the Stormcloaks fear nothing. This is a test for us. The people of Skyrim need to see that we move with authority and with boldness."

Reyna pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, inwardly cursing his stubbornness. But how could she hold it against him, when it was one of the things she admired most about him? Ulfric Stormcloak was an arrogant, obstinate, domineering Nord… and she wouldn't have it any other way. With him, there were no airs, no pretenses. He spoke assertively and spared those around him of honeyed words. She admired him to a fault.

"Besides," Ulfric continued with a wolfish grin, "With the Dragonborn by my side, who would dare attempt harm to me?"

She ignored the warm feeling that started in the pit of her stomach at his words. She was no pitiful little girl, but a hardened warrior. Why then, did she always feel weak in the knees when Ulfric set his gaze upon her?

Galmar grunted in what sounded like grudging affirmation. He looked at the Dragonborn in question and said firmly, "I want you by his side at all times. We will flood the city with soldiers before you ride in."

Ulfric gave them a smug smile. "Jorleif," he called, summoning the steward to his side. "Send a courier to the jarls, confirming the moot in Solitude in a fortnight." They marched together to the main hall, Jorleif speaking excitedly.

"He's put his faith in you, Stormblade," Galmar growled, gazing at her solemnly. "Do not let him down."

Reyna raised a brow. "The only person Ulfric puts faith in is himself," she replied haughtily. She watched Ulfric purposefully stride out of the hall. "You know I will protect him. With my life."

* * *

"Mama!" Sofie cried, greeting her adventurous mother with enthusiasm. "You're home!"

The whole of Hjerim began buzzing with excitement.

"Honor to see you again, my Thane," Calder said, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Mama!" Hroar yelled as he ran up to her.

Reyna grinned wide and enfolded her adopted children into her arms. There was no feeling like coming home and being greeted the way her children greeted her. They made her feel wanted; not just because she was the Dragonborn, or a Thane, or any other kind of hero in Skyrim. They loved her simply because she was their mother. Such was invaluable to her.

"Let me get you something to eat," Calder suggested, standing from the table. The redheaded housecarl eyed the dingy and battered armor fitted to her tall, lithe frame, as well as the dirty hair that was normally a pale blond but had turned dark with grime, and the smeared war paint across her heart-shaped face. "I'd venture you're ready for a decent meal."

"Aye," Reyna agreed, giving him a thankful nod, ignoring his probing gaze. "I'm famished." She knelt in front of her children and pulled her knapsack from her shoulders. "But first: Gifts." She pulled out a glowing steel dagger and handed it to her son. "You know the rules, Hroar… you only use this when supervised by Calder, and be careful." She then pulled out a magenta silk dress, and handed it carefully to her daughter. "All the way from Solitude's Radiant Raiment, my dearest one. Just like you asked."

"Oh, Mama!" Sofie gasped, stroking the material. "It's perfect!" She held it up to her body and cooed at her pet fox, "Won't I look lovely?" She danced around holding the dress in the air.

"Word around town is that Ulfric will attend the moot in Solitude," Calder said as Reyna sat at the table and begin to eat eagerly.

"Word travels fast then," she murmured in between bites, inwardly amused. It hadn't been yet an hour since she'd met with Ulfric.

"Will you be in attendance, my Thane?" Calder asked, watching her with concern.

Reyna nodded and took a sip of ale. "I'm acting as his personal bodyguard," she grated, sending him a sideways look. "We leave in two days."

"Will Ulfric be High King, Mama?" Hroar asked. He had always been one to listen intently on conversations involving the future of Skyrim. Reyna knew it was because he had lost his family before, and didn't want to lose his new family. Hroar had expressed nothing but relief that the Imperials had finally been defeated and that there was relative peace throughout Skyrim. But now, he seemed worried again.

Reyna reached out and stroked his cheek. "You mustn't worry yourself over such things, Son." She sipped at her ale again and placed her tankard down with a smile. "Ulfric is the rightful and true King of Skyrim. There can be no other."

Hroar smiled brightly and nodded.

"Why you, Reyna?" Calder asked quietly. "Why does a man with an entire army need you as his bodyguard?"

Reyna sighed and tried to avoid her housecarl's intent gaze. The man was as loyal as they came, but he questioned Ulfric's motives often when it came to her. She knew Calder had developed feelings for her long ago, and had tried to handle them delicately. He was her best friend and truest confidant, and she didn't want to ruin that. "When Ulfric asks for something, he is not to be denied," she said slowly.

Calder nodded in begrudged acceptance. "I know, I didn't mean to imply that he should be denied, I just… worry for you. Those Penitus Oculatus agents are still crawling around Solitude. What if they try to move on you?"

"That is precisely why I need to be there," she rejoined, her voice firm. "You know I appreciate your concern, Calder, I really do. But you know that I am committed to Ulfric and his cause. If that means shielding him from a thousand of the Penitus Oculatus, so be it."

Calder's mouth fell agape for a moment, but moments later he cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "You must rest as much as you can in the next two days then, my Thane. The journey with Ulfric will be a grueling one."

"Indeed," Reyna agreed.


	2. The Moot

_Note_ _:_ _Yes, I'm aware I'm playing with the jarl appointments. It's fanfic, peeps._

* * *

The camp was quiet. Most soldiers were in tents around the small valley where they'd chosen to rest for the night. Ulfric never slept in a tent, though. When traveling, he preferred to sleep under the stars. That, and he felt it was a crafty decoy in case of an ambush attack.

Reyna and Ulfric laid a foot apart on their bedrolls. Ever the watchdog, Galmar laid on the opposite side of the campfire, snoring loud enough to wake all of the other sleeping creatures around them. Teldryn Sero, once a mercenary for hire and now Reyna's trusted traveling companion, was also on the other side of the campfire, and he was doing his best to sleep with Galmar's noise filling his ears.

Ulfric began to chuckle, and the sound surprised her so much that she sat up and looked down at him where he lay close by.

"What's so funny?" she asked him, eyes narrowed. She'd just bathed that morning, so surely it wasn't her stench. She and Teldryn had a running jest about their scents when traveling. Baths were a rare indulgence in the life of an adventurer.

Ulfric rested his hands behind his head and gazed up at her with an amused expression. He'd imbibed a healthy dose of mead with his meal, but nothing that should make him turn silly. She enjoyed seeing a more relaxed side of him; something about his almost jovial appearance made her stomach flutter. She just hoped he wasn't laughing at her expense.

"Settle down, Stormblade. I was simply reflecting on all the events leading to this."

Reyna raised a brow. "To what?" she asked with skepticism.

He grinned. "To me laying next to the Dragonborn."

Laughter bubbled out of her and she could feel her previous unease slipping away. "It's been a wild ride," she said. "Just a few months ago we were about to have our heads removed from our bodies. Now look. You have defeated the Imperials and are about to become High King. I'm shouting villains off mountaintops and fighting dragons."

"Indeed." He looked up at her solemnly. "It seems both of us were meant for greatness."

They stared at each other, both wondering what the other was thinking. They'd had many pregnant pauses in the past, moments where they'd tried and failed to read each other's minds. They were so alike in their persistence and stubbornness.

"There was a reason Alduin flew into Helgen that day," Reyna told Ulfric with all seriousness. "It was destiny. You are a part of that. You are not the Dragonborn but you know the Way of the Voice."

"I have pondered the same thing many a time," Ulfric said, watching the fire crackle. "Our fates seem entwined."

It was the first time Ulfric had shared such musings with her, and she resisted the urge to preen. "Is that why you wanted me here with you?" she asked him boldly, head tilted to the side.

"In truth I felt it would be unfitting for the decision to be made without you there," Ulfric confided, gazing up at her from his reclined position on his furskin pallet. "I've come to rely on the Dragonborn's support," he confided, eyes intense yet unreadable.

She reached out and traced his chiseled jaw with her fingertips. "What else do you need from the Dragonborn?" she asked breathlessly, feeling as though his hot gaze would melt her into a puddle.

His hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of her wavy blond hair, dragging her down to him. Their lips met in a passionate, fevered kiss, and Reyna moaned softly, having dreamed of his lips on hers for ages. He plundered her mouth, tasting her, delving into her until she felt she couldn't breathe.

Breaking away, she straddled him atop his bedroll, pulling his heavy coat off of his broad shoulders and working eagerly at the linen shirt underneath. He sat up, holding her hips tightly to his, and began pressing kisses to her neck, his beard sensually grating against her sensitive skin. She pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind her, then began kissing his neck the way he had hers: open-mouthed, incessant kisses urging a low groan out of him. His hands tightened on her waist and he ground up against her, and she could feel his hard length flush against her heat. She moaned at the feel of it, but quickly pressed her mouth to his skin again, trying to be as quiet as possible. She wasn't even sure Teldryn was asleep yet. She wasn't even sure Galmar was still asleep. She wasn't sure of anything in that moment except Ulfric pressed against her, his hands holding her tightly where he wanted her.

With all her strength, she pushed him back flat on his bedroll, and continued moving her mouth down his muscled chest, his taut abdomen. She unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them down his legs; and then, after giving him a devilish grin, wrapped her lips around his turgid length, sucking his formidable cock into her mouth. The action elicited a muffled shout from him, and for a moment he stared down at her in disbelief, but then quickly twined his hands into her hair and gripped her head as she milked him with her mouth.

"By the Nine!" he gasped as she took his full length to the back of her throat, then came up and plunged back down again. "Enough," he growled, and pulled her back up. His freed cock pressed strongly into the loose-fitting trousers she wore, and she gasped at the feel.

With impatience he tore her shirt open, freeing her ample breasts. He stared hungrily at her pert nipples, begging to be kissed. "By Talos, you are a beauty," he murmured appreciatively. His deepened baritone voice caused goosebumps to erupt all over her body. Her head fell back as he palmed her breasts strongly, his thumbs flicking over her swollen nipples. Her hips gyrated against him in a silent, age-old plea.

"Oh, you'll get that, Stormblade," he assured her in a low growl. "That, and much more." He drew one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling the other one and plucking it between his fingers. She cried out, unable to help herself, her fingers curling into his Nordic braids, a flood of warmth erupting at her center.

"Give me… what I've wanted… since I saw you," she commanded him in between gasps, rolling her hips against his, urging him on.

He laughed seductively in the valley between her breasts, his hands skimming her naked back. He was cut short when she swirled her hips against his in a particularly delicious, sensual move. He tore her trousers away from her body, and his hand eagerly sought her heat, stroking the abundance of wetness he found there. She dug her nails into his shoulders, then reached in between them and squeezed his cock.

"Give. It. To. Me," she ground out, and when he clasped her hips in his heads and held her up slightly, she guided his length to her dripping entrance, and slowly sheathed him, driving them both mad with lust.

They both cursed in delectable agony as he filled her to the hilt. Reyna pushed him back once more and steadied her hands on his chest as she rode him, her neck arched back in delight. His fingers dug into the smooth skin of her ass, guiding her motions, both of them near delirious with the pleasure they felt. A consummation of months-long sexual tension between them had Reyna feeling euphoric. Normally a very vocal lover, she did her best to keep herself under control. But she was so close… so close…

"Oh… Ulfric.." she murmured as his hands reached up and caressed her breasts. She arched back and held onto his thighs as she rode him harder and harder, and he thrust up into her with all his might.

She came hard, her wetness flooding out onto his pumping cock, and in sudden realization, she rolled off him and quickly plunged her mouth down onto him as he roared his release. His hand knotted in her hair as she took all he had to give, sucking and swallowing even as he shivered with finality.

Reyna fell back next to him, as they both tried to catch their breaths. She glanced across the campfire and was mollified to hear Galmar still snoring away, and Teldryn turned away as if asleep. Sweet Mother, had she been wild. Ulfric brought out something primal in her, and it was a very dangerous thing.

"By Ysgramor's beard," Ulfric murmured.

"Mmmm," Reyna hummed as agreement. She felt the weight of exhaustion rolling over her. Reaching down, she grabbed her tattered shirt and donned it, then moved back to her own bedroll.

"Hail to the king," she said over her shoulder by way of saying goodnight, smiling with satisfaction as she fell asleep.

* * *

Reyna winced and closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself. The bickering throughout the Great Hall in the Blue Palace was deafening. For a person who lived mostly in the wild and had grown accustomed to open sky and quiet woods, it almost seemed too much. She was tempted to shout all of them into silence. Grown adults, leaders of holds in one of the fiercest provinces of Tamriel, were acting like petulant children. It was enough to make anyone enraged, but a fed-up Dragonborn was a dangerous thing.

Before she could explode, though, a high tenor voice rang out, stilling all others. "It occurs to me that the Dragonborn had a great role in all of this," Falk Firebeard suggested to the room. "Another hero of Skyrim."

All of the jarls and their stewards began nodding and voicing their agreement. For a couple of seconds, Reyna felt like a trapped deer. But she knew what her voice meant. She knew how important it was to pledge her support to Ulfric in front of them all, to endorse him as the rightful High King. Tact wasn't exactly her strong suit, but it was extremely vital in this moment. She could feel Ulfric's intense stare from beside her; it felt like hot steel burning her skin. Her next words could make him or break him, and perversely she enjoyed finally having control over him, instead of the opposite.

Taking a deep breath, Reyna smiled pleasantly at each of the jarls and their stewards. She was the champion of every single jarl in the room, and had worked tirelessly for the people of their holds and to become their thane. Her actions had always spoken louder than her words, and every person in the room trusted her, respected her, and valued her opinion. Even Elisif, who was clearly uncomfortable being at the moot, was waiting with a genuinely curious expression for the Dragonborn's opinion. It was a mighty realization for her, considering she had once been no one, sentenced to die at the chopping block.

"So, what say you?" Falk demanded. "Who do you hope to see on the throne?" he posed the question to her boldly.

Reyna was silent as she gazed at each of the jarls in turn, and then she spoke clearly and powerfully. "My support lay with Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. I believe that if you were smart, your support would be with him as well. Ulfric will restore Skyrim to its former glory, and hold us up against the Aldmeri Dominion… the foul wolves would destroy us all."

To be expected, agitated murmurings began. Reyna moved to the center of the room, attempting to make hard eye contact with all of them.

"I know some of you have felt unease at the idea of Ulfric becoming High King, and with good reason. You've heard stories of how he shouted Torygg to pieces." Feeling bad when Elisif winced, Reyna continued quickly, "But most of you will remember that Torygg held great respect for Ulfric. He knew Ulfric was a powerful individual. And that is what we need, moving forward. The Empire is shattered, my friends. It is crumbling down around us, and the Dominion, those vultures, they are eager to see us demolished. We must forge ahead united, behind a single formidable leader." She turned her gaze to Ulfric. "High King Ulfric Stormcloak - for Skyrim," she proclaimed with finality.

Just as the commotion had been deafening earlier, so too was the silence now. She shifted her gaze around the room. Elisif seemed relieved in a way, yet disappointed as well.

"High King Ulfric, for Skyrim," came a deep, grumpy voice. It was Jarl Skald the Elder, one of Ulfric's staunchest supporters. He felt the moot had been unnecessary, because to him Ulfric already was the High King. He seemed even more annoyed than Reyna.

"High King Ulfric," another voice came, aged and weary. It was Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn, who had taken back his rightful role as jarl from his traitorous and lazy nephew Siddgeir. The old man was bitter, tired, and perturbed, but he didn't want to see the Aldmeri Dominion gain anymore power than they already had. He'd spoken to Reyna often of his loathing of the Dominion and his distaste at the Imperials who cowered before them.

Jarl Laila Law-Giver spoke then, her stern voice ringing out, "High King Ulfric." There was a hint of suspicion in her voice, but then there always had been when she was speaking of Ulfric. But again, she considered him the lesser evil.

"High King Ulfric," called Jarl Igmund of Markarth, taking the entire room by surprise. Igmund had once greatly relied upon Ulfric, but had ultimately had a hand in his betrayal with the help of the Empire. To say matters had been tense was an understatement, but Igmund seemed to truly believe that if they were going to stand against the Dominion, Ulfric was the leader they needed.

Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone spoke next, and her withered voice betrayed the resentment within her. "High King Ulfric," she muttered. She had been more than displeased with Ulfric's victory, but like others, her avid distrust toward the Thalmor and Aldmeri Dominion came before her displeasure with Ulfric. Reyna knew ultimately her opinion was mostly insignificant. Idgrod wasn't respected by her people, and most who encountered her knew she was slowly but surely losing her mind due to her fanatical magical involvements. Ulfric was sure to replace her soon.

Reyna's eyes shifted to Balgruuf, who was sitting with his arms crossed and his furious gaze directed at the floor. His expression was one of pure enmity. He was going to be a tough nut to crack.

"Jarl Balgruuf," Reyna called. He didn't raise his eyes to hers. "Where do you stand?" she persisted. They needed to get this over with. Six out of nine holds had already ruled in Ulfric's favor, but it would be ideal after her speech about unity if they all moved forward in agreement.

Apparently, that was asking too much.

Balgruuf exploded out of his chair, marching up to Reyna and snarling in her face. "Where do I stand? I have aided you ceaselessly, made you my thane, given you everything! And this is how you repay me? Siding with that arrogant bastard, imposing his reign on all of us like some hired thug." He sneered at her hatefully. "I stand against you. I stand against him. I stand against everything he stands for. _He_ will be the one to bring the Empire to its knees, not the Dominion!"

Reyna blinked. She could hear the crackling of magic behind her, her travel companion and protector Teldryn just itching to blast Balgruuf across the room. The sizzling sound echoed throughout the stunned, silent room.

"Balgruuf," Reyna said his name slowly, appeasingly. "I have done all I can to convince Ulfric to give you a chance, but if you cannot control yourself and agree to what's best, he will depose you as jarl. Please be reasonable."

The angry Nord stared at her in fierce wrath mixed with disbelief. Then, with a roar, he unsheathed the sword at his side and rushed past her toward Ulfric.

" _Fus_ ," she shouted at him, and he fell flat on his face before Ulfric. The jarls watched, wide-eyed, as Galmar grabbed Balgruuf by the neck and forced him toward the exit.

"I, um, I think Ulfric should be High King," Jarl Korir of Winterhold suggested, causing everyone to look at him with incredulity. None of the jarls cared much for his opinion in the first place, and it seemed a mighty strange time to voice it then.

"Elisif," Ulfric spoke, the first time he had done so the entire moot. "You have been quiet. I'm sure everyone would appreciate your thoughts on the matter."

Reyna glanced at him sideways with a raised brow, shocked to hear his usual arrogant tone gone and replaced with something akin to gentleness. She watched as Elisif met his eyes and something unspoken passed between them. And that's when Reyna knew.

Ulfric had seduced Torygg's widow.

They had arrived to the Blue Palace the previous evening and had been tensely greeted by Falk Firebeard, Sybille Stentor, and Elisif. Reyna's room was adjacent to Ulfric's, and she had been keeping a close eye on him - she was his bodyguard after all - but had fallen asleep at some point, exhausted from their hurried journey. Upon waking and going to check on him, she'd found an empty room; but Galmar who had insisted on taking the floor of Ulfric's room was also absent, and so she'd not worried about Ulfric's absence. Seeing the look that passed between the two, she now realized Ulfric had taken the opportunity to slip into Elisif's room. She knew the heated look; she'd shared it with him many times, had shared it with others. Despite Elisif's claims of disgust when it came to UIfric, Reyna knew firsthand how persuasive and charming the Bear of Markarth could be.

She should have predicted it. Expected it. Ulfric did have noble plans for Skyrim, but he did love power, too, and he would certainly do anything he felt helped solidify his nomination as High King. It wasn't as if he belonged to her, anyway. Why should she care? He had just slept with her the the night before they'd arrived at the Blue Palace, of course, but it hadn't meant anything. Well, _now_ it certainly didn't. Reyna rolled her eyes and inwardly chastised herself. She should have known better than to get tangled up with such a complicated man.

"It's true my husband did admire Ulfric and his unending support of Skyrim's traditions. I think supporting Ulfric is what Torygg would want me to do." Elisif smiled hesitantly. "It's what I want to do. High King Ulfric, for Skyrim," she finished, voice soft but strong.

Reyna fought the urge to scoff. If Elisif thought Ulfric had any real feelings for her, then she had all the brainpower of a skeever. Perhaps General Tullius had been right about her: Elisif was simply a puppet, to be manipulated by whoever had the will to do so.

"Then I guess it's settled," Falk announced, still sounding slightly bewildered as to how they had reached this outcome. Surely Elisif's opinion had him reeling, along with everyone else. "Let us kneel before our High King."

Reyna's lip curled in disdain, and yet she took a knee and swore fealty with the rest.

* * *

She truly did have a love-hate relationship with that man. The nerve! He'd known without her by his side, he never would've convinced the whole room to kneel before him. She'd been nothing but a pawn. In the back of her mind, she'd known that all along. She just wished she hadn't slept with him. No, that was a lie; she didn't regret sleeping with Ulfric, she regretted feeling anything after. But then, she'd felt for him since the moment she'd crossed paths with him, seen him put himself in harm's way at Helgen to protect his men, seen him bravely face the chopping block. Damn it all, he had a hold on her, and she didn't like it one bit. And the look of triumph in his eyes as they'd all sworn fealty. That man would be on an ego trip for the rest of the year. She'd rather face ten dragons than look at him again today, or for the next few days; that smug grin would be permanently etched into his face.

A hand caught her upper arm as she passed by one of the pillars outside of the Blue Palace. Ulfric's face peered out of the shadows. "Your words today meant much to me, Reyna," Ulfric said.

Reyna stared at him, trying to see past his always-guarded expression. It was one of the only times he'd ever said her name and it momentarily disarmed her. "I only deal in truths, Ulfric," she said finally, tugging her arm back.

He released her arm and stood tall before her. "You have so much faith in me."

Aware of Teldryn trailing her closely, she decided to remain aloof. "Not in you; in your ideas. Skyrim needs a king who will honor the traditions of this land, and will fight against the Dominion."

His brow furrowed, but then his face became passive again and he inclined his head minutely toward her. "And now it has one."

She nodded and looked away. "I'm going to kill things now. Good luck," she bid him.

"Stormblade," he called, in a commanding tone. "You know that I now have the right to tell you what to do." His tone held a hint of warning.

Heckles raised, Reyna replied tartly, "No man tells me what to do, not even the High King of Skyrim. Try, and I will shout you _to pieces_ ," she said with mock sweetness, hoping he took the hint from her reference to Torygg's death that she was fully aware of his dallying with Elisif.

Satisfied by the widening of his eyes and the fact that she'd rendered him speechless, she turned and quickly made her way down Solitude's streets.

* * *

"I should have told you," Teldryn said apologetically, as they lay looking up at the stars. The ruined castle tower where they'd made camp for the night had been missing a roof for a long time.

"No," she countered. "My speech at the moot wouldn't have been pleasant, had you told me." She chuckled ruefully at the thought. Normally she didn't prefer to express her softer emotions, but Teldryn knew how she felt about Ulfric, and that as much as she hated it, him sleeping with Elisif had bothered her deeply. For so long, Ulfric had been focused on the war, and then on becoming king. He'd never had women around, save for her, and they'd consummated all of the heated sexual tension that'd been building between them a night before he slept with Elisif. She wasn't sure what kind of person she'd be if that _didn't_ bother her.

Teldryn had confided as they made their way into Skyrim's wilder areas that he'd kept watch over Ulfric when Reyna had fallen asleep. He'd known of Ulfric and Elisif's tryst.

"There's more though," Teldryn continued, now gazing at her instead of the night sky.

"Sometimes I wish I could be one of those blissfully ignorant people," she muttered, dreading what could possibly be worse.

"Reyna…" He signed, then plunged in. "I overheard them. Ulfric promised Elisif that if she supported his rule, he would make her his queen." He shook his head as if appalled. "Then he bedded her for good measure."

Seething, but too tired to do anything about it, she lay there, glaring at the stars, her fists clenching.

"You can have anyone you want, you know," Teldryn told her softly. "Everywhere we go, men and women alike pant after you."

Reyna barely heard him at first, but then his words sunk in, and she rested her hands over her stomach, calming with each new moment. "You're right," she agreed, an almost scary smile forming on her face. "It's time to move on. We'll go to the market first thing in the morning."

Teldryn frowned and looked over at her. "The market? Why?"

With a devilish grin, Reyna held his gaze. "To get an Amulet of Mara."


End file.
